Black boils
by Einsam-Schatten
Summary: How did the Italies feel, getting a mysterious plague without warning? Being the first European country to get it? Black, bloody boils don't look very nice on human skin.


**Just gonna say, I guessed that around this time, Feliciano and Lovino were around 13 or 14. So assume that they are still children, just older children (who don't wear maid dresses anymore, ufu~)  
**

_Ring a ring o' roses_

_Pocket full of posies_

_A-tishoo a-tishoo_

_We all fall down~_

_..._

Italy walked slowly through one of the towns in his country. A sickening smell of death polluted the very air he breathed. Children coughed harshly into their shredded sleeves. Women and men stopped blood from dripping down their lip. His people were dying. A strange sickness infected his, and his brother's very country. People were dropping like flies. Hundreds at a time. This pained North Italy and South Italy, physically and mentally. The pain would surge through their bodies frequently, everyday, making it become unbearable for the two teenage countries. Feliciano would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming in agony, and Lovino would fall to his knees in the middle of walking through town, clutching his chest. It came to a point where they had to take care of each other. They had persuaded Austria and Spain to let them live in their Italian house together to make sure.

Each step Feliciano made sounded eerie to him, with the streets so silent and creepy. When he was out of the depressing little town, he felt a little better, but not that much. He made his way up to a medium sized mansion, and inserted a key in. With a turn and a click, he swung the door open with a creak.

"Lovino, I'm home..." he squeaked.

No reply.

He traveled upstairs to their room. Romano lied in bed, asleep. He didn't look one bit peaceful. His forehead was feverish and his muscles twitched involuntarily. A thick stream of dark, crimson blood flowed down to his chin. Italy took a handkerchief and carefully dapped away the misplaced blood. As he did that, his brother woke up, ever so slowly. Big, green eyes fluttered open innocently, as he adjusted to his surroundings. When he did, a frown formed on his face. He could feel the burning in his body and the blood trickling out of his nostrils.

"It must've hit South Italy pretty bad..." Feliciano pointed out, wiping the blood from the handkerchief on his sleeve.

Lovino nodded, flinching at the pain the movement induced on him.

"Would you go check on my half..." he asked quietly, shifting in the bed.

I nodded halfheartedly. Quickly, his brother fell asleep once again, or more likely, fainted. Italy quiet exited the room.

With a sigh, he went back outside.

_Oh Romano, why now? I just got back..._

It didn't take long for him to get to South Italy. Their house was on the border between the North and the South. But he wished he didn't have to see the image right away. The first town he got into was a Catholic town. Young women, fully covered in scrappy clothing from head to toe (also known as nuns), greeted him when he entered the small town. It was just as bad as the last one he was in, or maybe worse. When he walked around, he came across an old looking...what appeared to be a small chapel? He assumed it was vacant until he heard the crashing inside of it. It took a bit of courage and a deep breath to look inside. He lifted the lock and opened the door. Even though it was dark, he could make out the figure of a boy, possibly physically older than Italy, fidgeting and wobbling about. His legs seemed untrustworthy and unsteady, like a newborn horse or fawn. He made disturbing hacking sounds, emptying out his stomach, perhaps? I opened the door wider. The boy knocked into a wall on accident and slid down or the floor. He looked up at me with dark, nearly lifeless eyes. Blood fell from his mouth and streamed from his nose, bloodying his clothes as it lands on him. He looked like he hadn't slept, nor eaten in a long time. The boy's whole body shuddered constantly. And then I noticed another gruesome thing about his appearance. A large swelling appeared on his neck, blackish color replaced his olive skin color. Blood dripped from the swollen skin, down to his feet. It looked so painful.

"I am sorry, sir, I did not mean to disturb!" he apologized quickly.

The boy mouthed the words that were easily recognized.

_Help me._

Italy gulped. Before he could say anything else, he heard a startled voice behind him.

"Get out of there, boy! We had him quarantined for a reason!" a woman shrieked, quickly closing the door of the building.

"Why in a chapel?"

"It's not a chapel, you fool!"

"Huh?"

The woman did not bother explain, she just jabbed him with a bony finger and grabbed his face. His cheeks being squished together painfully with nails sinking into the soft skin was not a nice feeling.

"Listen, boy, by opening that, you could've doomed yourself, and this entire village, do you hear me?" she scolded.

He nodded quickly, and ran away from the scary woman.

...

His breathing was labored by the time he got back to the house. He had run almost the entire way, in fear the woman was chasing him, for some reason. Shakily, he grabbed the doorknob and turned it, having had forgotten to lock it earlier.

Lovino was waiting for him in his bedroom, like before.

"How was it?"

"Worse than my people..."

Silence.

"So how are you feeling?" North Italy asked in a concerned voice as he reached for his forehead.

"Better..." South Italy answered gruffly.

Feliciano smiled.

"I heard France's people got the disease, too..." how blunt of Lovino.

Feliciano's smile fell.

"Big brother France?!" he cried.

Romano nodded solemnly.

"No no no no no, we gave them the disease, we must've!"

With that, Italy fainted under stress. South Italy reluctantly crawled out of bed to help his brother, trying not to get blood on him. With the last bit of strength he had, he hauled him up onto the bed with him, panting as he did so.

Italy muttered something in his state of unconsciousness.

"Help you..."

Romano had not known about the incident with the boy so this left him a little confused. But he didn't dare think too much into it, for he was just too tired. As he climbed into his bed, he let out a bloody cough, but didn't bother wiping the essential substance off of him and his bed sheets. Instead, he just closed his eyes and said...

"From what..?"

...

In a matter of months, the Italian population decreased rapidly. The disease had spread rapidly. France had it bad, like Italy. The Italian twins could, unfortunately, not house with France, for it would be too crowded, so they could not help him in his time of suffering. But they had their own problems to worry about, anyway. Italian travelers were being murder out of belief of holding the plague. It was already bad enough that the disease was taking them, but now their people could not escape. The more intense the whole thing became, the more it hurt. But the two were starting to get a little to used to the pain. It began to feel like a normal thing.

South Italy was checking out his side of the country to see if things were maybe getting better. Oh, how wrong was he. He stumbled upon a village, and checked it out. Suddenly, he heard people yelling angrily.

"She who carries the plague shall be punished for her crimes!"

The voices were coming from around the corner of a small house. He hurriedly ran to the source and was shocked at what he saw. A young woman, possibly around seventeen, hung from a tree by her wrists, and had legs tied up so she could not resist her torturous punishment. The girl looked like she was French. Then things began to come together. She must've been traveling to Italy, and was clueless about the plague in Italy. Word about these things take a long time to get out.

A man with an axe stomped to the front of the crowd of people, listening to the girl's last cries of protest. The man walked in front of the girl, maybe just a few feet away. Lovino mentally noted the strange black boils on her neck, and knew it was the best that she died. Not for the villagers' sake. He knew she wouldn't suffer anymore. Even though the idea of being decapitated didn't seem to sit well with her, it was for the best. The axe swung at the young girls neck, and Lovino covered his eyes as he heard the sickening sound of flesh being pierced. He turned around so he didn't have to see the scene, and walked away quietly.

_ This is getting out of hand...it's been about a year already...how long is this supposed to last?_

...

"Fratello, now England and a few other countries have the plague! You missed it at the United Nations Meeting in London!"

Romano rubbed his temple. There was a terrible silence for a few minutes until Italy opened his mouth again.

"Will this ever end? I don't feel well..."

Romano didn't speak. He was a bit traumatized.

...

A few years passed and the disease had effected the European countries Italy, France, Spain, Portugal, England, Germany, Norway, and later, Russia and Scandinavia. The Italies, England, and Russia all got together at a meeting. No one else could make it, since they felt first priority was protecting their country.

"Mm...how do you suppose we come about this problem?" Russia said quietly, coughing into his sleeve. His usual smile was transformed into a pained grimace.

"How can we? It's practically taken over..." England sighed.

North and South Italy were a bit younger than Russia and England (who were physically around 15 years old) so they let them talk for a bit. This was fine with them, though, since there wasn't much they could really say.

"So, we let our people die? That does not sound good to me..." Russia said in broken English.

"Bloody hell, Russia, there's nothing we can fucking do!"

"Russia's right, we shouldn't give up...there's not a solution yet but..." Italy trailed off.

"What else do we have to lose?" Romano finished.

Russia and England looked at the two, then after a while, they nodded.

...

About a month later, Feliciano looked in the mirror as he dapped some blood from his lower lip. While he did that, he noticed something that made him drop his wet rag and shook him up all over. A black swollen spot on his neck could be seen. The plague.

_I may be a country, and this should not kill me, but that will make all so much more sufferable..._

**_End._**

**a/n: I know I should be working on the next chapters of my stories, but because I don't know how to continue them, so I wrote this one-shot to get my creativity going. It's got a sucky ending, I know, and it doesn't have a point, but it was fun, ufu. R&R please~ (Constructive criticism is much appreciated)**


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